


Give a Little, Get a Lot, Part 2

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finds out something about Jim, and that leads to their firs fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give a Little, Get a Lot, Part 2

## Give a Little, Get a Lot, Part 2

by Scribe

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/scribescribbles>

This story is not meant to reflect on the lives of the actors who portrayed the characters.

This first appeared in My Mongoose Ezine. Thanks to Elain for beta.

This story is a sequel to: The Drilling Rig 

* * *

Part Two 

Jim couldn't pour on his full speed in the confines of the corridors: even as coordinated as he was, he'd have ended up bouncing off walls at the turns. Still, he wasn't far behind his Guide. Blair's door was just swinging shut as he rounded the corner into his hall. He reached the door in about two heartbeats. 

He threw the door open, to be confronted by an already half-naked Blair. Sandburg, shirtless and with his belt undone, one shoe already off, was bending to unlace the other. He looked up as Jim swept the door shut, and his eyes widened at the sight of the Sentinel looming there. Jim's eyes glittered, and he was smiling in a manner that was more than a little predatory. The chase always seemed to set off something primitive in him. It occurred to Blair that bent over was perhaps _not_ the safest position to be in right now. He started to stand up, and that's when Jim tackled him. 

" _Damn good thing these bunks are built in_ , Blair thought as he was thrown back on his mattress, with somewhere close to two hundred pounds of horny Sentinel on top of him. "Jim..." Luckily, what he was about to say was not of earth-shaking importance, because Jim took the open mouth as an invitation and promptly filled it with his tongue. _Okay, I can do this._

They kissed and squirmed together, Jim somehow managing to shed his shirt in the process. He straddled Blair's leg and started to hump against it, rubbing the bulge of his erection sensuously against the firm, denim-clad thigh. Meanwhile, his hands roamed over the lightly furred torso that was heaving beneath him, seeking out the thrusting nipples and the sensitive spots along his ribs. 

Blair tore his mouth away from Jim's and gasped. "Boots! Get the boots off, man." 

Jim lifted enough to look down at him with slightly irritated amusement. "They haven't bothered you before." 

"For knee tremblers in the supply closet, fine. Fuckin' sexy, actually. But not in my own bed. Get 'em off." 

Jim moved to sit on the side of the bed, grumbling. "Ruin a guy's momentum, why don't you?" 

Blair stroked his back soothingly as he bent to begin unlacing the boots. "Don't want to ruin it, man, just slow it to a trot instead of a ball-bustin' gallop." Jim grunted, worrying at a knot that had somehow formed in his boot laces. "Tell you what, big guy. Why don't you just relax and let ME drive this time?" Jim froze, the muscles under Blair's hands tensing to the hardness of stone. "Jim?" 

"No." 

"Okay, if you're not up for it right now. I just thought you might like to lay back and be taken care of." 

"You don't have to do that, Chief." 

"Hell, I know I don't _have_ to. I _want_ to." 

Jim continued to pick at the knot without looking up. "Sorry." 

"Sorry. Sorry? Are you, like, not feeling well? You seemed healthy enough five seconds ago. Scary healthy." 

"No, just let me get these boots off and I'll show you how healthy I am." 

Blair was silent, watching as Jim managed to get one boot off and started on the other. A suspicion was rising in his mind, and he hoped he was just misinterpreting this. "Next time?" 

Jim's face remained turned down, and his tone was far too casual. "Sure, next time." 

"Jim, are you lying to me?" 

Ellison sat up, a startled look on his face. "Blair, what's that supposed to mean?" 

"Exactly what it sounded like. Do you mean it when you say I can fuck you next time? Is it a promise?" No response. Blair's voice hardened slightly, "What? You're just saying it so you can go ahead and screw me? You're trying to get me off your back about... about... being ON your back?" 

Jim sighed. "I, uh, don't do that, Blair." 

"Jim, how long have you been gay?" 

"All my life, I guess, but I didn't admit it till..." 

"Okay, let's not get into that. How long have you been _active_?" 

"About twenty years." 

"Do you mean to tell me that you've never been fucked in all that time?" Jim shook his head. "Oh, MAN!" Blair fell back on the pillow, giggling. "My fianc is a virgin." 

Jim stood up, glaring down at the chuckling guide. "Sandburg, I should have given you ample proof by now that I am _not_ a virgin, and I'm ready to prove it to you again." 

Blair waved his protests away, still laughing. "Sorry, man, but you qualify. Your ass is unexplored territory, you're a virgin." He sat back up. "Now that I think about it, you haven't done ANY ass play since I've been with you. I haven't even gotten a finger up there, and it's such a _beautiful_ ass, too. I guess you've had me distracted." 

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I'll keep you so distracted that you'll forget all about it." 

Blair was shaking his head. "Not possible, Jim. That ass is unforgettable, especially now that I know for a fact no one else has ever had it." 

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, Chief, but you might as well just put it out of your mind." 

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Are you talking about never? Not at all?" 

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." 

"I can understand you're being a little hesitant, if you've never done it before, but..." 

"No. End of discussion, Chief." 

Blair gaped at him. "Excuse me. Did you just make a pronouncement? No _these are my reasons, what do you think?_ or _I might consider it if_ , just a flat _this is how it is_?" 

Hearing that, Jim realized that it had to sound selfish and arbitrary, but he didn't feel that he could back down. "Blair, you knew when we got together that I'm a pitcher, not a catcher." 

"Yeah. Practically the first thing you said to me was 'I top', I remember. I practically creamed my jeans. Don't get me wrong, Jim, I LOVE it when you top me. You can drive me out of my mind." 

"Then I don't see what..." 

" _But_... I want the chance to drive you out of _your_ mind, too." 

"You do, babe, you do. It's just not something I like." 

Now Blair raised his voice. "How the fuck do you know? You've never done it." 

"Look, I've never..." 

"So help me, if you say something like _I've never twisted my own nuts, but I know I wouldn't like it_ , I'll throw your ass out of this room!" Jim stopped, flushing. He wouldn't have chosen those exact words, but Sandburg had gotten the gist of what he was about to say. "Question for ya, Jim. If you think that getting fucked in the ass is such a distasteful or unpleasant thing, then why are you so keen to do it to me?" 

"I... Blair, you enjoy it." Pause. "Don't you?" 

"Oh, fuck. If you can't TELL..." 

"Yeah, yeah. I can tell." 

"Then you KNOW how good it can be. Jim, I just want to fuck you, not fuck you OVER. I love you, ya knot head, and I want to show it." 

Blair had his arms folded across his chest, but Jim could see the still stiff points of his nipples, the ring glinting in the left one. He cleared his throat, feeling the pulse of blood in his crotch. "We can discuss this later, can't we?" 

Blair's jaw clenched till he could feel a muscle twitch, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "Sure, Jim. You just go on back to your room and let me know when you're ready." 

Now it was Jim's turn to gape. "But I thought..." He trailed off, seeing the hard look in Blair's eyes. _Oh, shit. I've seen him pissed before, but he's ANGRY now._

"Yeah, well, I thought I had an open, generous lover: a partner. I think we need to spend a little time apart, Jim. I'm really mad right now, and I might say something without giving it the proper thought." 

"Blair..." 

"We don't want to hurt each other, man, so just leave. Okay?" 

Jim gathered up his shirt, pulling it on, then picked up his boot. "I'll see you at supper?" 

"Probably. I have to eat." 

"Okay." 

Jim went out into the hall, closing the door softly behind him. Then he couldn't resist standing there a minute, listening. Both Sandburg's breathing and his heart rate were rapid and heavy, a clear sign of agitation, and they didn't slow just because Jim was out of the room. Jim leaned back against the wall dispiritedly. _I think we just had our first fight. Damn, it sucks._

A crew member, on his way to the showers, passed Jim and gave him a curious glance. Sure, there was nothing unusual about passing a fellow employee in the halls, but one that was as flushed as Jim, one who had one boot on, and the other in his hand, _that_ called for a bit of mental commentary. 

Jim watched the man carrying a bottle of shampoo pass, then looked down at his still distended fly. "Crap." He glanced longingly at Blair's door, then started down the hall to the showers. One thing about being on the rig, there was never a shortage of cold water. 

Blair threw himself back on his bed, fuming. *Of all the pig headed, stubborn, unreasonable... Our first fight, and it's about sex. I thought that was at least one thing we could agree on. How did I miss this till now?* 

As irritated as he was, Blair still smiled. Jim, a virgin. Whoa, THERE was a concept. Blair had lost count of the times they'd had sex in the few weeks that they'd been together. It had been a rich and varied round of love making, or so he'd thought. Now that he looked back on it, he saw the pattern. 

Jim never put himself in the vulnerable position, at least when it came to anal sex. Oh, he was willing enough, hell, even _enthusiastic_ about swapping blow jobs, or sixty-nineing. But if someone was getting fucked, it was always Blair. _Come to think of it, he doesn't do anything that could be considered by the remotest logic as submissive. That one time that I sat on him and rode him, he tried to roll me over onto my back at least four times, I remember it clearly. I thought he was just playful, and wanted to wrestle, but I guess that wasn't it. This will not do at ALL._

If someone had pointed this out to Blair, he would have reacted defensively, immediately stating that what Jim did was just fine with him. But since he had brought it out, he realized that he hadn't so much chosen to be the 'passive' partner, as not been offered the choice. 

That bothered him. Blair had seen too many relationships where one partner was the 'husband' and one was the 'wife', and he had no intention of falling into that trap. The thing was, he didn't think Jim was deliberately being selfish. He probably didn't even see it as an effort to control Blair, but most likely just saw it as controlling himself. _I don't like the idea of anyone or anything controlling my fate, he said. And he's had extended periods of his life where he was almost totally out of control, with his senses running wild. Okay, I can see how he ended up a control freak, but he has ME now. I'm here to help him get through without holding on so tight that he almost strangles himself. How am I going to make him see that he has to give in a little? If he doesn't, it will be as unfair to him as it would be to me. Think, Sandburg, think._

He thought for almost an hour. Then he got up, put his shirt back on, and went in search of Simon. He found the older man layering potatoes and cheese in a huge baking pan. "Sandburg, what are you doing up? I figured you'd be under the covers by now." He grinned. "Or at least under Jim." 

"There's a bit of a problem I can't elaborate on, Simon, but I'd like a little help and understanding about it." 

"Sure, kid. What can I do?" 

"First off, you can tell me exactly what it is that you're fixing for supper." 

* * *

End Give a Little, Get a Lot, Part 2 by Scribe: poet77665@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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